The Batman-Story One, Issues 3-5
by RabidDog008
Summary: The Gordon's make an alliance with the Batman. Comic coming soon. The links from the afterwords; rabiddog008(dot)tumblr(dot)com, rabiddog008(dot)deviantart(dot)com.
1. Issue Three: Alliance

Barbara sat cross-legged on the couch in her father's flat watching the TV; she was waiting for him to finish cleaning the kitchen and go to bed. Jim cleared the sink of the remaining soap bubbles before kissing her goodnight and heading to his room. After a few minutes she heard the shower start then come to stop a short while later. The clock on the wall struck 10 PM and Barbara got up, and crept into the spare bedroom where she had left her bag earlier in the evening. Opening it up she emptied it of her text books, pencil case and magazines, leaving just her newly sewn cape and cowl neatly folded at the bottom. Removing her shirt she revealed the dark grey leotard with the bat insignia stitched to it, and over it she pulled on her hoodie and sneakers before slinging the bag over her shoulder. Slowly and silently she exited her room and the flat, locking the door behind her.

Barbara often went out for late night walks around the neighbourhood, visiting one of the diners or even the late night library to the west in Gotham's middle island, so her absence wouldn't be thought too much of if her father were to wake. Not that tonight she was going to any of those places; tonight she would begin what she hoped would become a career as a costumed vigilante.

Down the street was a gym and martial arts centre that allowed members to come and go as they pleased. Fortunately Barbara was a member. She entered through the back and into the empty changing rooms, stripping down to her vigilante outfit and stowing her bag in her locker. Boots laced, utility belt fastened and long gloves clipped into place with push studs, she tied her hair into a tight bun before slipping the balaclava-like, pointy-eared mask over her head. As she closed her locker she saw herself in the mirror; with a long, black, batwing shaped cape draping to the ground, and elbow, knee and shin pads over her leotard. Hopefully they'd work when needed. "Let's do this." She breathed.

The streets were quiet but Barbara stuck to the back alleyways regardless. She swung herself up onto a metal industrial bin out the back of an apartment block and jumped up to the first level of the fire escape. She climbed the first few rungs of the ladder using just her hands before she pulled her legs up to climb properly. Reaching the second level, Barbara leaned over the railing and looked to the roof, counting another thirteen more levels to climb. She'd have to be quick and careful; the fire escapes were of course leading out from apartments, many of which showed signs of life.

On the seventh level Barbara was almost caught; as she climbed up from the sixth, the apartment window below her opened and a man stepped out, lighting a cigarette in his hands. Barbara gritted her teeth and climbed up to the next level as quietly as she could manage, her fingers stiff with the pain of hanging from the ladder for so long. She stepped onto the metal grate of the seventh level and the man below her paused. Barbara held her breath, but he didn't look up.

Continuing up was uneventful, until she reached the roof. There was a large group of people gathered for a party, some dancing drunkenly to the music while others stood around and gossiped with champagne in their hands. Coloured lights swung from scaffolding and party streamers were draped over almost everything in sight. Barbara vaulted from the top of the fire escape over the low ledge and onto the roof with the partygoers. Crouching in the shadows, she moved around the buffet table and outermost ring of tables and chairs to the other side of the roof, then leapt across the gap to the next building.

An hour passed and nothing happened, but Barbara was still buzzing with adrenaline. She'd been watching over a group of three thuggish looking hoods in an alley about half a mile from where she'd started. They'd gotten rowdier as time had gone on and thrown their beer bottles into the corner before heading off onto the street. Barbara managed to follow them as they made their way through the streets to a laundrette. They looked around the street as they entered, one of them reaching into his back pocket. They didn't seem to be there to wash their clothes.

Her heart began to pound as she looked over the edge for a way down. As she'd made her way further south the buildings had become shorter, this one was only six floors. She spotted a drain pipe a few meters over, and before pulling herself over she grabbed it and tried shaking it as hard as she could. Verifying its sturdiness, she held on as she made her way backwards down to the ground. Pulling her cape around her, she crept out onto the street and out the front of the laundrette. Just as she'd thought, she saw the three thugs holding the place up.

The laundrette was a rectangular room about five meters wide by fifteen deep. The front of it was made of floor-to-ceiling windows with bars on the outside, the door to the left, the inside sparse with white walls and the lino black and white chequered floor. The left hand side of the room was lined with front loading washing machines while the right with front loading driers, with two flat, cushioned, red upholstered benches for people to sit on running down the very middle. Directly facing the door was the counter, behind that a door leading through to the staff area, and a window stripped with mirror/glass for security purposes covered the rest of the back wall. The fluorescent lights on the ceiling gave the room a bright glow while the air smelled of fabric softener.

The noise of the opening door could barely be heard over the commotion inside. Yelling from the thugs to open the register with retorts from the cashier allowed Barbara to slip inside and slide the bolt across to lock them all in. "Please don't let that be a bad idea..." she whispered, analysing the scene before her. The three thugs stood at the counter, their backs to her while the cashier was too focused on them to notice her. An opened box of washing powder was placed on the bench, close to the counter. Leaning by the door was a mop which Barbara grabbed. Holding it in both hands, she ran forward, raising it level with the thug's heads.

Twisting her body to the left and the end with the mop head with it, she swung forward using all her might, bashing the first thug in the side of the head. He fell, and with barely a pause she jabbed back the other way, the end of the mop handle hitting the second thug. They collapsed as the third thug turned with a bewildered look on his face. Barbara threw the mop at him and spun on her heel, grabbing the box of washing powder and emptying it in his eyes. She leapt up onto the bench, jumping at the third thug and delivering a kick to his chest. The first two had barely managed to pull themselves up and were still reeling from the first blows. She turned back and pushed the creeping feeling of growing fear aside. She knew she would have to stun the thugs again to finish them, but the mop on the ground was too great a risk to reach down for. By her side was a basket filled with dirty clothes, so she grabbed a handful and threw them at the thug's faces. The closest flailed blindly as she dropped to her knees and punched his groin. He fell and she clambered onto the bench again, glaring down at the first thug. She tightened her fists as he ran to the door to get away from her. Barbara started after him but stopped as he tried to run through the outwards opening door, only to smash into it while the lock and hinges groaned from the strain

Barbara relaxed, panting as she climbed down from the bench. She reached for the water bottle in her belt and took a swig, walking over to check on the cashier. The middle aged man got up from behind the counter and looked over the defeated thugs, completely agog. "Are you okay?" Barbara asked, trying to keep her composure.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Who are you?" he spluttered.

Barbara wiped her mouth and placed the bottle back in her belt, "I'm Batgirl," she said, "Did you hit the panic button?"

"I haven't got a panic button." the cashier answered.

"Call the police and open the door for them when they get here. I'm wondering if you have a back door?" she asked as she made her way around the counter.

"Yes, through here," the cashier gestured through to the back of the store, "Thank you for that, it was amazing. I can't believe what I saw."

"Neither can I." Barbara agreed, walking through the back and outside to the alley. Barbara climbed on top of an SUV to reach another fire escape and got up onto the roof. She sat out there for a few minutes before the police arrived and were let in by the cashier. They emerged a short while later with the three thugs in chains while an ambulance pulled up out front to assess them. Barbara couldn't help but grin as she looked to the starry sky and took in a breath of the crisp night air. As she looked back down she noticed a figure on the roof across the street; dressed in black with a flowing cape, his pointed ears barely visible against the shadows. Barbara's mouth dropped open and she clapped her hand across it to stop herself gasping with surprise and joy. His head seemed to turn and from across the street, his white eyes looked as if they were studying her before he turned and left.

-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-

2 AM at Wayne Manor in the Pennyworth's bedroom, Alfred lay in the bed beside his wife Harriet, reading through the second to last chapter of a thick novel. On the bedside cabinet sitting in its cradle, his mobile phone buzzed and lit up with a received message. Putting his bookmark in place he reached over to open the phone, seeing a message from Bruce. He pulled himself out of bed and put the covers back before getting his slippers and dressing gown and tiptoeing out of the room.

He went down the hallway and into the kitchen. In the pantry he opened the secret doorway and got into the restored service elevator. At the bottom of the elevator shaft the doors opened to the Batcave, where the air felt warm like the heaters were on. Alfred followed the walkway to the main cavern where Bruce stood by the metal cupboard in the work area, packing away the last bits of his armour.

Bruce looked back and saw him enter. "I hope I didn't wake you, you didn't have to come down." he said as he shut the cupboard and locked it.

"If you didn't want that, you wouldn't go texting me when you get home at 2 in the morning." Alfred replied, retightening the cord of his dressing gown.

Bruce shrugged and turned off the heaters and lights by the control pad on the work bench, walking out of the Perspex-encased work area. "I saw something interesting while out tonight."

"Oh yes?"

"Yes… another costumed vigilante," he mused as he opened the doors to the service elevator, Alfred following, "A 'Batwoman'."

"Oh really?" Alfred asked again, this time with more interest in his tone.

Bruce shut the doors and pressed the button, and the elevator made its ascent to the pantry. "Or perhaps actually, a Batgirl. I was about fifty feet away but even from that distance she looked pretty young."

"And what was this young, Batgirl character doing that caught your attention, other than being dressed like you?" the two of them stepped out from the elevator and shut the secret entrance behind them.

"I was in the south of Middle Gotham when my scan picked up a disturbance a few streets over. Just some guys robbing a laundrette. When I got there the Batgirl went in, locked the door behind her and dealt with the three thugs pretty swiftly." Bruce filled the kettle and placed it on the stove, "Care for some tea?"

"I thought I was meant to be your butler," Alfred replied, "What do you think of her?"

Bruce came to a stop and ran his right hand over his chin, deep in thought. "I guess," he started, "I need to find out who she is. Not just beneath the mask, but what her intention is, her motivation, her reasoning."

"And you're the only one in Gotham with dibs on the masked crime fighting then?" asked Alfred.

"No, no it's just," Bruce chuckled. He paused, "She wasn't completely prepared. No real armour, nothing to keep her safe, and who knows what her limits are. She finished off two of the guys with improvised weapons and let the last guy injure himself so badly he needed an ambulance."

"And you're saying you're not doing the same to this city's criminals?" Alfred walked over to a kitchen cabinet where some of the crockery was kept, taking two tea cups out.

"He ran head first into a glass door. It's morbid but I have to crack a smile at that. I'll see if this Batgirl comes out again, seeing how she's dressed I'm guessing she's most likely to be a fan, and try to make out if she's doing it for the best."

-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-

Two days had passed and Batman had yet to see the Batgirl again. He'd been caught the previous night trying to stop a van full of criminals fleeing from a spree of robberies on a gun store, service station and a clothing store. The sight of the Batman landing on the van's hood had paralysed the driver in shock, and the van went careening off the road and into a shop front.

The police had been in close pursuit and they quickly descended on the scene. Batman watched from above as Jim Gordon stopped by and left in a hurry after receiving a call on his mobile. Jim could still be a valuable ally with just a bit more persuasion, so Batman made a note to try and visit him on his night off back home.

But now Batman had found himself trapped between seven armed assailants in the middle of a drug deal. He'd been watching from the roof for a minute before he decided to lower himself down into the fray. _Practise, _he thought. He landed in the centre of the gathering and many leapt back. Three of them reached for their weapons as he dropped a smoke pellet, flooding the alleyway and causing one to panic fire, the bullets ricocheting off the concrete walls. The lenses in his helmet switched to thermal vision and he quickly incapacitated the three with guns. One swung blindly in his direction as he ducked and kicked him in the stomach, flinging him back into their buddy standing behind them. The smoke cleared with a gust of wind down the alley and Batman felt a dull _thud _in the middle of his back. He turned to see his attacker, an overweight man in a cheap suit, drop to his knees, clutching at his broken hand. The final dealer tried to run back to his car, a black sedan parked over the alley's end, but failed to make it far as he dropped to the ground, his feet tripping over a batarang that Batman had thrown at him. The dealer blindly grabbed at a dumpster for support, trying to get up again as Batman strode up behind him and took him in a headlock, finishing him off with an oxygen mask-like device from his belt filled with knockout gas. Batman dropped the dealer and straightened up, placing the device back when he heard a _thwack _come from behind.

He turned and saw the dealer in the cheap suit who'd punched him collapse back down, a steel pipe falling from his good hand. Standing over him was the Batgirl, her grey-blue eyes visible through her homemade cowl glancing between the attacker and Batman. The two looked over each other and Batgirl stood up straight, relaxing from her defensive stance.

They stood a few seconds more before Batman turned away. "Wait." she said, stepping towards him.

"Drag him and his friend over to me." Batman ordered stoically as he grabbed a thug by the collar and hauled him into the middle of the alley. He'd managed to attract the Batgirl and he could tell she wanted to talk to him as much as he did to her, perhaps even more so. He just decided not to make his longing known.

Once the seven men were sat back to back to one another, Batman cuffed their hands together behind their backs. Using the control pad on his left gauntlet he called the police, "Citizen's arrest in alley on 51st before Sodium Street. Drug deal, seven suspects, all apprehended." he told the operator before hanging up and walking to the alley's end.

"Wait!" Batgirl called out again, following after him, "I don't quite… it was really," she fumbled, trying to find the right words.

Batman pulled his grappling gun from his belt, "Take my hand," he said, offering it to her. She grabbed it and he pulled her close, firing the grapple to the roof of the building before swooping up. Reaching the top Batgirl pulled herself up and over with ease as he marched across to the next roof, putting some distance between them and the crime scene below. He glanced back to make sure she was keeping up, and was glad to see her practically on his heel. After a few minutes they came to a stop on a higher roof, Batman pulling her up to him and motioning for her to sit at the wrought iron, white painted table and chairs by the small community garden some of the building's residents had put together. He paced back and forth slowly, noticing she watched his every move.

"You're Batgirl, yes?" he asked quietly, his voice deliberately deeper than his natural tone.

"That works." she answered.

"I noticed your age after the laundrette a few nights ago." Batman stopped pacing.

"I saw you too." Batgirl smiled a little.

_Thought so. Seems I'm visible to those in the same line of work, _he mused. "Why are you out here?"

Batgirl sat up slightly, "I was inspired by you," she replied, "It seems stupid and suicidal but I wanted to help uphold the law-" she stumbled over the last bit of her sentence, almost like she was embarrassed by what she said.

"Had no normal means of law-keeping occurred to you?"

"Of course! All the time, it's just that it's nearly impossible… for me. I wanted to do something and this seemed… um..." she pursed her lips.

She was having trouble with that. Time for a quick diversion. "Taekwondo I see?" Batman said, referring to her fighting style and stance she had adopted earlier.

"Fourth kup." she replied quickly.

Batman nodded. He'd studied it years before, along with several other forms of martial arts. "Quite the improviser too, judging by your mop usage." She nodded too; the glint in her eyes showed a mixture of concern and excitement.

Batman looked over her, folding his arms and deep in thought. She watched him expectantly for nearly a minute before he spoke, "It is suicidal. But I could train and better armour you. Either that or forbid you from doing this and turn you in."

"Why would you do that? What's the difference between you and me?" she asked.

Batman glanced over her hockey and kneepads to his own full body armour. He looked her in the eyes and she looked back into his, before he realised that she couldn't even see his, just the glowing lenses on his helmet. A question popped into his head and he lowered himself down to her level. "Would you ever kill someone?"

Batgirl swallowed hard and flinched, visibly disturbed by the question. "No," she answered, "I don't want to kill anyone, no matter what happened. If it was someone random or someone I knew, it wouldn't matter. It's not the right thing to do and it'd make me as bad as they were."

The question had caught her off guard but the look on her face said more than her words. She'd shown control in the fight at the laundrette and used her surroundings to the best of her ability. True it wasn't the most intense situation, but many vigilantes would have likely pummelled the aggressors as their rage took over. It was a driving force between quite a few citizen crime fighters, but Batgirl's motives were unclear. She had wanted to be a police officer but for whatever reason was unable to, the need to do something to uphold the law was enough to make her take to the streets like him. Mental stability of a costumed vigilante aside, it seemed she had positive intentions. If left to her own devices, those intentions would become muddied. Guidance is what she needed.

"Are you familiar with the library in Central Gotham?" Batman asked, standing up again.

She smiled a little, "It's about six blocks from here."

_She knows her stuff, _Batman thought to himself. "Meet me there on the roof tomorrow night at 12:30. If delayed I'll wait half an hour, the same for you if I am too."

"Really?" her visible face cracked with excitement.

"It seems this is a two person job," he walked to the edge of the roof, stepping onto the ledge, "I'll see you there." he said as he leapt off and swooped away into the night.

-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-

Their meeting had not gone unnoticed. Watching from across the street but well out of hearing range of their conversation, Selina Kyle ducked out of sight as Batgirl looked out onto the street, trying to see where Batman had gone. Selina peered around the corner of the building and removed her balaclava, opening her satchel to see the thick wads of cash inside. She pulled out her phone and dialled Holly, making sure she wasn't being seen by either of the costumed vigilantes. "Hey Hols," she said as the phone was answered, "I'm about ten minutes away. You're not going to believe what I just saw, I've had the best idea…"

-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-

The clock struck 11:15 as Jim Gordon switched on the lights at the front of his house to take out the rubbish for collection in the morning. As he made his way back to the house something on the roof caught his eye. He froze as the shadow lowered itself down into a shadowy part of the veranda, "Lieutenant Gordon," Batman whispered.

Gordon relaxed and walked onto the veranda, "You took off in quite a hurry last week." he said quietly.

"I was there to speak to you and you only. Apologies for my abrupt exit." Batman stepped forward a little, some light spreading over his shoulder and face.

"And I'm sorry too," Gordon put his hands in his trouser pockets, "I've been thinking it over and… I'd like to help. I'd like to, but I can't. Legally."

"I understand. You can't provide me with the information I require, but I'm still willing to share what I know. If I do have one other request, it's that I'm not shot at again in the future."

"I'll try to stop my guys being so trigger happy." Gordon hesitated before continuing, "Could you share some of this information you have now?"

Batman paused and looked over him before reaching back and withdrawing the steel book. Opening it he withdrew a plastic sleave with a few typed sheets of paper inside. He handed it to Gordon. "Two weeks ago a restaurant was bombed in South Gotham but not before twenty three people inside were murdered," Batman said, "One of the men was Tommy Forelli. He was suspected of being involved with the Gotham crime families due to him being in contact with many known family associates. One thing that wasn't known was that he was the leader of the Goterellis, and responsible for masterminding the attack on the ACE Chemical Factory the month before. Of the twenty three killed at the restaurant, his death stands out. The others killed were no one major that I know of, 18 were innocent bystanders seemingly uninvolved with the Mafia."

Gordon was flabbergasted, looking between Batman and the notes, "How do you know all of this? That it was a bombing? The report said-"

"A gas explosion, I heard it on the news. I told you that you were one of a handful of honest police in the city, but the corruption goes further. The ones who analysed the wreckage were paid by the crime families to cover up what happened. It seems there was a weapons stockpile under the restaurant and a bomb was planted there. Naturally the gas line exploded too but that wasn't what caused it."

"You sure about this?" Gordon's brow furrowed, "These are some serious-"

"It may be enough to launch further investigation, in which it should be confirmed," Batman put away his steel book and turned to leave, "Good luck lieutenant."

"If this is true," Batman looked back at Gordon over his shoulder, "Then thank you." Batman tilted his head in acknowledgement before disappearing onto the roof and out of sight.

Batman watched from the top of a telephone pole across the street as Gordon headed back inside his house, leaving the front light on. Down the end of the street a bus pulled in and came to a stop to let a passenger off. Batman pulled his cape up around him in case he was seen and watched the young woman walk up the dark street towards him to make sure she got home safe. Reaching the light streaming in from the Gordon's house she came to a stop and swung her bag off her back and to the ground, bending over to rummage through its contents in search of something. Leaning in to get a closer look, Batman recognised her as Barbara Gordon, Jim's daughter. Having no luck, Barbara tipped the bag on its side, and neatly folded grey leotard with a bat symbol scribbled on the chest tumbled out.

Batman had done more than his fair share of hair raising stunts in the last few weeks but nothing made his heart skip a beat like it had when he realised Lieutenant Gordon's daughter was the Batgirl.

-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-

And now, an afterword and update from the author.

Thank you everybody who has been reading these Batman stories. I started planning these a few years ago as a comic series, and while they only exist so far in written form the comic is coming.

Planning a comic is hard, the biggest issue for me being scripting. I couldn't get the hang of it; I knew what I wanted but I didn't know how to get it on the page in a script format. Also because I didn't really want to. I knew what I wanted, I didn't need some footnotes to convince me further. But I needed to get all my ideas and the plot written so I didn't forget. So I decided to write it as a narrative, this. Writing it out as a story that flows, I hope, I can better picture how it'll look in ink and colour. As such you'll be able to read this story twice, like this and like a proper Batman story in comic form. There will be differences, some small variations in descriptions of characters, locations, events as well as information that can't be expressed in both formats.

Some of these discrepancies shall be caused by differences between my editor, Katie, and me. She didn't want to have her name to this at all but since I've been bouncing story ideas off her for over a year now I should give her some credit. You can find her here u/2189523/Kathleen-Anne-Vincent

The biggest thing I'd like to talk about is the future posting of this story on fanfiction. I've posted each issue as its own individual story, which my editor informed me is very much the wrong thing to do. I did it also because I liked adding the covers to each story, which she also told me "no one of FF cares about that." I think they look quite nice though. Well, nice-ish.

After this issue every future one shall be posted in a collection of several as different chapters in stories. They will be grouped together based upon a common narrative link, whether it is the featured villain, hero or event. It could be said that issue one to five could be contained as the one collected story as its themes include the rise of Batman, Batgirl and Joker. Issue six to ten will also be included together because of their overall story. Not every collection shall always be made of five stories, the first collection will be the final two chapters of collection one, so future collections could have as many as seven or as little as two. Each collection shall be labelled with which issue it includes.'

That's about that. I hope you like what's going on so far because there's more to come. If you'd like to see art from this series, from comic pages (soon) to concept art, covers and other stuff, you can find it at either:

.com  
>.com<br>/RabidDog008

Thank you.


	2. Issue Four: Intel

Carmine Falcone had long been publically known as being associated with Gotham's crime world. He'd been in prison 5 times over the last forty years; however in more recent times there had been no concrete evidence connecting him to what was once his family gang, leading him to be placed towards the bottom of the list of suspects on watch. Little did the crime squad detectives know, he was still very much involved in the family business, secretly operating the Falcone gang from the shadows along with many other of the city's family leaders. The late Tommy Forelli included.

The manor house where he lived was a red brick terrace property a few miles south of the Wayne's. Tall hedges around the perimeter kept the occupant's privacy, while an electric fence hidden behind further deterred any would-be trespassers, with countless security guards, cameras and other measures placed around the property.

Falcone himself was a large man in his early sixties, with very short grey hair, his wrinkled face almost the same colour as beetroot, and was nearly always dressed in a cream coloured three piece suit. He made his way down the steps from the front of his house, across the courtyard to his white limousine as his phone kept in his breast pocket began to ring. He grabbed it out as he took a seat in the back of the car, answering it and holding it to his ear as one of his guards shut the car door.

"Yes?" he coughed into the phone with his gravelly Italian accented voice.

"Is this mister Carmine Falcone?" asked the voice on the other end. It was high and cold, sing song like.

"Who's asking?" Falcone leaned back into the seat to fit the seat belt in place as he motioned for the limo's driver to take off.

"I would ask you to drop the tough guy act if you didn't mind," the voiced replied, "For now you can call me the Joker."

Falcone frowned, his eyes looking through the window to his security guards standing outside. "Joker? Say something funny."

"Oh how I wish I had the time, but there's important issues to attend to," the Joker shrieked, "Firstly I'd like to thank you for all the work you've done over the forty decades up to now, seizing hold of this city and flooding it with all the drugs, guns and prostitution you could ship in a container." Falcone remained quiet, not sure whether to hang or continue listening. "Secondly," the Joker continued, "I have a little poem to read, or maybe it's more of a nursery rhyme. Not my best, far from it, but I hardly think that matters considering your current situation."

Falcone sat forward as the security gates at the front of his property opened and the limo began to drive through, "May I asked what the point of this-"

"Tick tock, goes the clock, your final ride is a waiting," whispered the Joker, "Tick tock, goes the clock, it blows when you pass the gat-"

The limousine exploded. The bomb tore through the vehicle and its armour plating like it were cardboard, debris flying into the street, the courtyard and neighbouring properties. Falcone and the driver were obliterated; the hedge was set on fire, the windows on the manor shattered. The Falcone security guards, thrown back by the blast, pulled themselves to their feet in shock as the stared at the charred corpse of what was once their boss, hundreds of playing cards raining down over the scene.

-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-

One of the Falcone Family's most well-known criminal connections was Salvatore Maroni, a smug looking man with olive skin and dark yuppie styled hair who had come into prominence with the law since the early nineties. Barely a minute after and completely oblivious to the death of Carmine Falcone, he exited the city court house in midtown Gotham with his legal adviser and bodyguard at his side. Walking to the sidewalk he hailed a taxi just as a street mime stepped in front of him. His bodyguard went to move the mime along but Maroni held him back, interested to see what the entertainer did.

The old and well known routines were played out, from the invisible rope to being trapped inside a box. The three men and members of the public stopped to watch, not noticing the two other mimes creeping down the court house steps behind them. When they did it was too late; the mimes grabbed the bodyguard and the legal advisor in headlocks, knifes slid out from their sleeves into their hands as they began plunging it repeatedly into the two men's chests.

As Salvatore turned to see the attack, the first mime struck, jabbing a needle and injecting its contents into his neck. The world began to fade to black for Salvatore as he felt his facial muscles clenching. He dropped to the ground, staring up at his attacker, the last image he ever saw was the Joker's face, grinning down at him as he wiped the mime makeup from his face.

-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-

Knowledge of the two attacks reached Wayne Manor by TV news report, witnessed by Alfred. The glass of juice he was holding slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor as he saw the report prior to his favourite midday program. Turning away from the TV he moved as fast as he could to find Bruce.

"Have you seen the news?" he cried out as he entered the drawing room, seeing Bruce standing in front of the green leather couch, deep in thought.

"Not just yet, is it more important that how you came to get this couch?" Bruce responded.

Alfred came to an abrupt stop and stared, exasperated between Bruce and the chair. "What on earth do you mean?"

"Normally I'm quick, but sometimes the little, insignificant things slip me by," said Bruce as he began to pace backwards and forwards. "Although rather alarmingly it's taken me this long to realise that this item of furniture arrived in my family's house during my absence, a rather expensive item of furniture I might add, and I'm wondering how on earth it was paid-"

"Are you bloody serious?" roared Alfred, cutting Bruce off, "There has just been two likely terror attacks in Gotham this morning, and you're lecturing me about furniture like some pretentious..."

"Okay, yes!" Bruce spun on his heel and swooped down to the television by the fireplace. Switching it on, he scanned through the channels before coming across the report on the attacks. He sat back on the carpet floor with his hands held to his chin, his eyes flicking over the information playing across the screen. "I should perhaps contact Gordon," he said as he stood and left the room, Alfred following.

"You're not going to visit him at this hour are you?" Alfred asked as the entered the kitchen and approached the Batcave's secret entrance.

"Tonight I will, for now I'll give him a call," said Bruce as they entered the service lift and began the journey to the underground lair, "I should build stairs in case there's an emergency, or maybe something like a fireman pole if I'm in a rush."

"Like now?" Alfred grumbled, "Just don't slip and break you neck."

The doors opened and Bruce marched down the walkway to the Perspex enclosed work area. Echoing off the stone walls, the chirping of hundreds of bats in the darkness above became muffled as they entered the work room. Bruce took a seat at the desk and the six monitors of the computer, arranged in a grid setup, sprung to life. He reached for the closest in the centre and pressed its touchscreen surface, flinging open applications into a different screen with the swipe of a finger. Flicking through menus to a contact list, he typed G on the keyboard on the desk, selecting "GORDON, Lt. Jim" and hitting dial.

-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-

Pandemonium had erupted all over Gotham's police stations after the attacks. Jim Gordon had started his shift two hours earlier than intended to see over the chaos in the 23rd Precinct, and he'd barely had time to catch his breath.

His partner, Sarah, pushed through the crowded office to reach him, pulling him close to whisper in his ear. "There's someone on the phone for you from the mayor's office," she said, "I've put them through to your office."

"Ah...right," Gordon looked between the files he was holding and the bustling room before handing them to Sarah and making his way through to his office. Shutting the door behind him he reached over his desk to the phone. "Jim Gordon speaking," he spoke as he squeezed around his desk to open the Venetian blinds, letting in some sunlight.

"Lieutenant Gordon," said the deep, gruff voice on the end of the line.

Gordon frowned, trying to recognise who it belonged to before realising it was the Batman. "Oh it's you!" he cried and he moved back around his desk to check his door, "I guess you've seen the news."

"Two of the top suspects in relation to years of gang violence have been brutally murdered in broad daylight," Batman's deep voice rumbled.

"Are you going to help us on this then?" Gordon asked, taking a seat.

"As much as I possibly can. Firstly I need further access to the GCPD records."

Gordon sat back, deep in thought while chewing on his tongue. "I'm sorry, I don't think I can do that. I want to, I feel," he paused, "that you can be trusted, but I'm the only one here in Gotham, let alone in the police, who's on your side. It's just you and me and I can't go back and do that sort of thing, handing out that sort of info."

"This attack is perhaps gang related," said Batman, "however it may be the same people who were behind the Forelli restaurant attack a few weeks ago. If that's the case that's the three biggest crime organisations in the city attacked and their leaders killed. There is no other criminal organisation in Gotham to my knowledge that could pull off these attacks."

"So what does that mean? There's some new crime gang in Gotham clearing the way for themselves?" asked Gordon.

"Either that, or someone from within one of the gangs themselves," Batman growled, "The information I require may be in the police's possession. If the attacks were from inside the gangs, it's likely they may be reported in your records."

"The best I can do is give you the names of all known suspects," Gordon began to type away on his computer, delving into the police records, "I'll remove the names of those killed if you-"

"No time," said Batman, "I'll be on the roof of the GCPD building at 21:30 hours. Make sure you have those names, and don't even think of doing anything stupid."

"Something stupid?" Gordon spluttered, "What do you mean by-" Batman hung up just as Sarah entered the office.

"What was that?" she asked, placing a mug of coffee on a coaster on the desk.

"Don't worry, it's fine. I need any files or records we have, lists of suspects in relation to the Falcone, Maroni and Forelli families, can you get that?" Gordon placed the phone down as Sarah nodded and left the office.

-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-

"What now, Mister Wayne?" ask Alfred as Bruce shut down the call to Jim.

"Time to call the other Gordon," he replied, dialling the phone number.

-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-

Barbara sat in the middle row, off to the right hand side of the university lecture hall. The teacher's voice echoed around the room and they scribbled things away on the board and class members took notes. Her phone, sitting at the top of the desk, buzzed at receiving a text. She discreetly pulled it closer and glanced over the message:

"calling in 30-60 sec. be ready. -B"

She frowned, looking around the hall before standing and making her way to the back and out to the corridor. Shutting the door carefully behind her, she tightened her grasp as she looked over the phone. Sure enough, a few seconds later it began to ring. The ID read as unknown.

Barbara answered, "Hello, may I ask who's calling?"

"It's Batman," said the voice, her eye's widened at the sound of it. "I know you're Batgirl, Miss Gordon, I'm sorry it had to come out like this, but there has been an emergency."

She took a deep breath and straightened herself up, "what's happened?"

"This morning, crime lord's Salvatore Maroni and Carmine Falcone were murdered. I've worked a little with your father, providing him evidence on a restaurant explosion a few weeks ago," Batman told her, "however, he's been unable to provide me information. Can you help me get it?"

"Um, how do I, how do you want me to do that?" she uttered.

"Do you ever visit your father's office? After finishing university for the day?" asked Batman.

"Sometimes I do," Barbara whispered as another teacher walked past her in the corridor, "I'll stay in his office until he's done. I think maybe there are files in there."

"Maybe not. However, he is providing me with just the names of suspects related to this case tonight, but I need more," spoke Batman, "he'll need to get these files, kept as hard copies, in his office to get those names for me. If possible, send the information through to the number I messaged you on. This number will be encrypted, and will erase all evidence of this conversation once it's complete."

"I'll see if I can, I'll let you know I guess," Barbara smiled a little, leaning back against the wall.

"Good luck," said Batman as he hung up. Barbara lowered the phone, realising how tense her body was and how her heart was racing. She slid down, sinking to a crouch on the ground and holding her hands to her mouth, breathing deeply.

-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-

It was 6:27 that night when Barbara made her way through the 23rd precinct, escorted by an officer from the front desk. The office had quietened considerably as the day had gone on, and Jim was seen talking to a senior commander near his office. He saw Barbara as she waved to him, gesturing to her to wait a moment. Her escorting officer left as she stood by the door, the office buzzing quietly with people talking at their desks or typing on their computers.

A few minutes later, Jim made his way over to see her. "Hey there," he said in greeting as she embraced him in a hug, "How are you?"

She let go, "I'm okay. Obviously saw the news. How are you?" Barbara asked.

"I'm fine, still a bit busy. I need to go get some things, do you wanna go wait in my office?" he stepped away, heading towards the door.

"Yeah, sure," she smiled.

"I'll be about ten minutes," Gordon called back as he left. Barbara turned and walked across the room into his office, removing her phone as she went. She turned the light on and shut the door, moving around the desk to close the open window and blinds. Heart beginning to race, she looked around and sure enough, three cardboard archive boxes were stacked behind the desk. Casting her eye out the windows to the busy office, she reached down and removed the lid off the first box, filled with files arranged alphabetically with dividers.

Her dad said he'd be ten minutes. Well, about ten minutes. What did that mean, "about ten minutes?" That wasn't an accurate measurement of time, he could be ten minutes, yes, but he could also only be thirty seconds, or thirty minutes? Dare she start rummaging through police files? Yes, she did, she had to. She opened up her phone's camera, making sure to switch the flash off, before bending down to take a closer look at the files.

Batman had given her four names to look out for; Falcone, Maroni, Forelli and Goterelli. The box was labelled "K-Z", so with any luck Maroni should be in here. Fortunately it was. She pulled it out carefully and placed it on the desk, her eyes glancing out, outside the office, her dad nowhere in sight. Looking back to the file, her heart sank. There were at least forty pages in this file, and each one would have to be photographed, one by one. Not taking any chances skipping any, or trying to fit two pages in one photo, which would take time to take out and set up. She'd be damned if the information Batman needed was on the one page without a clear picture. What was the biggest concern was sending these images via text; her phone only allowed one attachment per message.

Barbara began flicking through the pages, snapping away on the camera as she did. She looked up every few seconds to make sure the coast was still clear, and thankfully everyone out in the office was too preoccupied to look her way. The solution to sending the images came to her during this time too; her main task now was getting the info, sending it could be done later. She didn't at all fancy the thought of what her monthly usage bill would come to.

Within two minutes, the file was done. She shut it up and placed it back, placing the top archive box on the ground and opening the second, "A-J". Falcone's file was only thirty three pages long with considerable less information but a higher number of suspects and individuals involved in the criminal enterprises. Something that caught her eye was a mark on Carmine Falcone's file; "The Masters OMG. See file." She made a mental note of this and jumped to Forelli's file, noticing a lack of any marked with Goterelli. The Forelli file had even less information than Falcone's, mercifully, but it was in here she spotted Tommy Goterelli, listed as the Forelli's leader, and as being deceased.

She shut the second box and peaked inside the third, seeing nothing but daunting piles of unorganised paper. Forget that, she had what she came for, what Batman had told her to get, but she remembered The Masters. She shut the second and third boxes and lifted the first one back up and opened it, finding the file marked "Masters, The, OMG" after Maroni's. She flicked through it, realising OMG stood for Outlaw Motorcycle gang, and began photographing these pages too. She looked up and went into panic mode; Jim was coming back. She threw the phone down onto the desk and put the pieces of paper back in place, slipping the file back and closing the box. She positioned it how she remembered it looked when she came in, before picking up her phone and taking a seat on the desk, back to the door.

Five seconds later the door opened and her dad entered. "Hey Barb," he said as she turned to look back at him, trying her best to look innocent. "I'm sorry, you won't be able to come home with me, I've got to hang around 'til a bit later."

"Ah, alright then," she stood and picked up her bag, slinging it over her shoulder as she went around the desk towards him, "when'll you be home?"

"I have a meeting, just a quick one, around nine thirty, I'll be home as soon as that's done," he smiled and kissed her on the cheek, "I'll see you later love."

As Barbara left the precinct she began sending a text to Batman. "Got the info in pics, will take a while to send. Will start later," it read. She began the ten minute walk to her dad's apartment, hands buried deep in her pockets away from the cold when she got the reply; "Will meet you at yours in 30."

-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-

Barbara got to the apartment by ten to seven, dropping off her bag in the spare room, her own, turning on the heat and putting her phone on charge. She flicked through the one hundred or so new additions to her photo gallery, checking to make sure every one was clear and readable. At least now she wouldn't have to worry about sending them if Batman was coming. If he was going to go through her phone to get them, she'd just have to make sure there was nothing on there that could cause embarrassment. She's better just check to make sure.

Something else crossed her mind as the clock struck seven and she paced around the kitchen waiting for her tea to brew; how did Batman know who she was? It was a little troubling, if she was honest. Her mask, unlike his, had both her eyes and lower face exposed, so that coupled with the possibility that some of her hair had flown loose could have given some things away. But for Batman to know her exact name, her phone number, where her dad worked, and even the stab in the dark question about whether she visited his workplace...

Five minutes later there was a knock at the window. Putting her tea down she jogged around the counter, out of the kitchen, past the table to the glass sliding balcony door to be greeted by Batman. "Hi," she said a little nervously as he stepped from the cold black outside into the warm apartment.

"Good evening, Miss Gordon," Batman's low voice rumbled. He walked forward to the lounge area, pulling his long black cape around him. Barbara was struck by how bizarre this image was; this heavily armoured, black clad, almost demonically dressed man standing by the coffee table and sofa. Perhaps she should offer him some tea. "Did you take the photos of the files using the phone?" he asked, turning back to look at her with the blank, glowing white eyes from the cowl.

"I did," Barbara made her way back around to the counter to grab the phone, "I've gone through them all, checking to make sure they're alright. They are."

"Good," Batman nodded, "do you have a computer? I need one to transfer the files."

"Sure thing," she strode to her room and grabbed her laptop from under her bed, walking out to see Batman looking at a painting hanging over the dining table. She placed the computer down on the counter and connected her phone, her fingers drumming on the wood top surface as it loaded. Batman placed a black, unmarked, rectangular shaped USB storage drive in the port on the side, and the file transfer from the phone to the drive was underway. Barbara stood back with her arms folded, "You know who I am then," she said quietly.

"Yes," Batman replied flatly. She looked over him, frowning. "It bothers you," he continued, "I know it would be more than a bit of bother were anyone to find out who I am."

"How did you find out?" Barbara stepped forward.

"The night we first met, I later visited your father at your house in the suburbs. I saw you arrive home barely a minute after I left. You stopped out the front and pulled the suit from your bag," he looked straight at her, "I think it's quite a coincidence that this had happened."

"Why were you there?"

"I feel I can trust your father, he's one of a few high ranking police officers in Gotham who's not on someone else's payroll," the computer chimed when it finished the transfer. Batman turned back and shut the folder window down, pulling the drive out from the computer and placing it away in a compartment on his belt, "plus I have my own reasons for going to him."

"What about my phone number?"

"Once I knew who you were, I was able to look up records online this morning to find your number," Batman walked around to the kitchen.

"How did you know that I would be able to visit dad's workplace?"

"A stab in the dark, and a lucky one at that," said Batman as he paced around.

"Can I know who you really are?"

"No," he stopped in his tracks, looking down at her.

"Okay," Barbara nodded and bit her lip, taking a few slow steps back to sit against the table, "would you like a tea or coffee?"

"Not tonight," Barbara looked back up, his mask unreadable, though his tone was lighter.

"If not tonight, a night soon then?" she asked as he walked back outside to the balcony.

He stepped up onto the railing, "Perhaps we can. Thank you for the files," Batman said as he leapt off and swooped away.

-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-

Nine thirty, Batman stepped out from the shadow on the GCPD rooftop to see Gordon standing near the roof access door. "Evening," he said. Gordon handed over a Manila envelope, opening it up as he did. Batman removed the contents, looking over the papers; a list of names, notes on each one, all hand written. "Good, thanks for this," he turned to leave.

"Wait," Gordon called out, "what do you think this is?"

"I can't go off guesses and uncertain information, but there are things I know," Batman said as he pulled his billowing cape closer, "Earlier this night I found out that a man dressed in a hat and coat over his suit entered the Goterelli restaurant before beginning to shoot people. My source not only recognised him, but his description fit that given by witnesses of the Maroni attack this morning. He was tall, slim, with a thin face and pointed features, wearing clown like makeup."

"How did you find out about this? Gordon spluttered, "And today's witness statements?"

Batman walked away, "I have my methods," he said as he thought back to an hour ago; leaning over the edge of a tall building, dangling to former Goterelli enforcer by the ankles and threatening to drop him unless he talked. "Really lieutenant, you should be starting to expect this."

-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-

Later on in the Batcave, Bruce sat back in his chair by the computer, looking through Gordon's notes and Barbara's photographs. Alfred made his way into the work area, tightening the cord on his dressing gown. "Fruits of today's labours?" he asked.

Bruce nodded, clicking back through the images on his computer, "Barbara succeeded in getting the information her father would give. Everything from his notes are in her photos, and more." He closed the windows down and put it to sleep, placing the notes away in a drawer before standing up, "Hopefully I can soon gain his trust for future investigations."

"Instead of betraying it now by using his own daughter as your informant," Alfred sighed.

"It's rather strange how this has all worked out," said Bruce as he shut the lights off and left the work area, "With Barbara Gordon deciding to emulate, no...Well, follow in my footsteps. Her mother was a police officer too, over twenty years ago in Chicago. Perhaps Barbara's motivations stem from that."

"What, like she wants to enforce the law? Makes sense I suppose," Alfred shrugged as they walked back to the elevator, "If that's the case, why didn't she just become a police woman?"

"The time, the training required; compared to that, pulling on a mask and some armour to dispense this 'justice' is almost instantaneous. No waiting at all," Bruce came to a stop, looking over the subterranean lake.

"That's why you do this then?" Alfred smiled, "Instant Justice?"

"My god, that sounds bad," Bruce chuckled as he continued on his way to the elevator. "But speaking of armour, there's some things I need to build for her to keep her safer than she is currently."

"Trusting her with dangerous missions, now you're building her armour and gadgets. Will she be making a visit to the cave sometime soon?" asked Alfred.

"In time, we'll see," replied Bruce, as they stepped into the elevator and made their way up to the surface.

-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-

The next night, Barbara stood on the roof of her father's apartment building, clad in her full Batgirl outfit. She rubbed her gloved hands together and hopped from foot to foot, trying to keep warm in the cold air. Behind her she heard the rustle of fabric in the wind, turning to see Batman. "Hi," she said with a shiver, "did those photos work out?"

"They did," his reply was slightly curt, "they allowed me to track down several members of those gangs, but unfortunately not the one responsible for the murders."

"But what's the full story here?" Barbara asked, "I mean, I've seen the news. Some high ranking drug lords were killed-"

"They were leaders of the three biggest criminal enterprises in Gotham," Batman walked to the building's edge, looking out over the cityscape, "Maroni, Falcone, Goterelli. Three separate crime families, alternating between working together and against each other. The person behind the murders used to work for all three gangs, however he is almost completely unknown. The police had no record of him, only a select few in the gang saw and worked with him, and even less knew his name."

"And how do you know this?"

"In the files you sent there was a photograph, in the background I spotted a man who looked similar to the descriptions given by witnesses to the attacks. Minus this clown makeup, which he's taken to wearing recently," Batman informed.

Barbara put her hands to her mouth, thinking back to when she was rifling through and photographing the police files, "I think I remember that photo," she whispered.

Batman nodded in agreement, "He wasn't identified, yet the intended occupants of the photograph were. I hunted the ones still alive down, and while they recognised him, they didn't know his name. They knew about him though; they described him as a sadist, perverse and inventive in his acts of violence."

"So now what? We get him?"

"I have nothing else on him besides this," Batman walked away into the shadows, returning with a metal case, "Yet you raise an important issue;" he said "We. You said 'we get him'."

Barbara's face flushed red, "I'm sorry, I jumped ahead a bit."

"If you and I are going to work together, to take this man down, and to stop the crime in this city," Batman opened the case, "you're going to need a lot more than spandex to protect you." Inside the case was an armoured chest plate similar to his own, along with two wrist guard gauntlets.

Barbara stood speechless before murmuring an excited "thank you" as she clipped the armour into place on her body. "This is a pretty good fit," she said as she twisted her upper body around, testing its manoeuvrability.

"If you continue to be any good, we can tail-" Batman stopped talking suddenly, pushing a button on his gauntlet, "What is it?" he said, a hint of urgency in his voice. Barbara watched intently, trying not to feel stung by Batman's comment. He spun on his heel and stepped right in front of her, "Get to your father's apartment, we need a TV," the urgency was now evident as he pushed passed and threw open the roof access door, running down the stairs.

"What's happening?" She cried out, as she ran after him, reaching for her keys. They reached the apartment door and she stepped in front to unlock it, Batman again pushing through like a boisterous dog. He descended on the television, fumbling with the controls to a channel before coming across the right one. He stared at the screen, sitting back on the coffee table. Barbara stepped around him to see, her jaw going slack at the sight.

"-Your sets," said a cold, high voice coming from off screen, "this program may not be listed in your TV guides for this station, but I can assure you that this is tonight's schedule. Well," the voice laughed, "it is now."

"Every station, Alfred?" Batman growled, evidentially talking to someone on a phone built into his helmet. He leaned forward and began pressing the button on the front of the TV, going through the stations. Each and every one showed the same image, to varying degrees of quality.

On the screen, a tall, thin man stepped forward, partially obscured by shadow. "I'm the Joker," he spoke in the cold voice, "you may remember me from crimes such as the explosion at Goterelli's restaurant, the murders of Sal Maroni and Carmine Falcone, along with countless other criminal acts it would take hours to list." He stepped into the light; as ever, chalk white skin, green hair, red lips, eyes that burned with hate. He grinned and laughed.

The Joker pranced away into the background of the shot as the room, which looked like a theatre, lit up. "They say 'all the world's a stage', well for now Gotham is all mine!" he shouted back as he posed and glared down the lens, "Tonight I'm going to be conducting a little social experiment; just how will emergency services take to react when the city becomes flooded with tonnes of toxic gas?"

A lump had risen in Barbara's throat and her heart was racing. She swallowed loudly, "Is this really happening?" her voice trembled.

"Ah ah! Don't touch that remote, not that changing channels will do you much good! I'm coming at you live from five of the cities stations!" the Joker cackled as he continued dancing around the space, making his way back to the foreground. "And knowing how the press likes to jump on a good story, I'm almost certain that every screen in Gotham shall be graced with broadcasting my handsome mug."

"Batman, what do we do?" asked Barbara. She looked over him as he stood up from the coffee table, turning to look her right into her eyes as sirens sounded on the streets below.


End file.
